The morning after the act was announced, the wasteland west of Newly Town looked much the same as it had the day before.
Over eleven hundred contract workers were scattered across it, most of them moving as sluggishly as if they were sleepwalking.
"Get a move on, you bunch of weaklings! A hoe is for tilling the earth, not for you to use as a crutch!"
Laine's throat was nearly raw from shouting, but the group of new serfs continued to poke listlessly at the ground.
He had been a farmer for over a decade and had been through his own share of aimless days, but wasn't a better life now within reach? Why were these people acting as if they couldn't see it?
'I hope Lord Velin's "Citizen Redemption Act" will wake these lost souls.'
"Laine," another technician next to him leaned in and lowered his voice, "I'm afraid the lord got it wrong this time. The only way to deal with these people is with a whip. Nothing else works."
